Knots Tie Up
by hobnobchic
Summary: This is different for Rick, but how can Michonne be sure? After returning from the first trip to the Hilltop, Michonne and Carl come to an understanding, but Michonne and Rick still need to talk, whether Rick likes it or not. Post 6.11, Knots Untie - Rick and Michonne try to work things out at home.
Michonne stood on the porch trying to tamp down on the anxiety currently churning around in her stomach. Rick was at least another couple hours behind her and she had no choice but to enter alone. She opened the door to the house slowly, all the while listening for sounds of movement. Ominous evening shadows paint dark pictures on the walls, but otherwise there was nothing here. No one. She did not visibly react when she realized the downstairs was empty. She absolutely did not let out a small sigh of relief.

Michonne makes her way to the kitchen quickly, but keeping ever vigilant – no sounds came from upstairs, no noises could be heard from elsewhere. Just something small to eat would be enough. She looked in the too bare cupboards and found an untouched bag of kale chips. Success! With her hands clutching her treasure, she prepared to leave.

"Look who's here," came a voice from behind her.

Michonne turned around and was face-to-face with a very serious Carl Grimes. Shit. A slightly less serious Judith Grimes reached out for her from her brother's arms.

"Hey Carl. You guys are up late."  
"Yep," says Carl, completely unrepentant.  
"Um, it was a good trip. We made out really well. Your dad's still planning for food storage."  
"Cool," says Carl, that intent look never leaving his face.  
"Well, it's past my bedtime so... Good night," she said, in a measured and even tone. She held her head high and started to walk past him, giving Judy's leg a friendly little tug as she passed.

Snort.

She turned back around to make sure she heard him correctly. The side of his face not covered with a bandage was showing an all too knowing raised eyebrow.

"Did you have something you wanted to say," she asked, lowering her voice an octave and looking him in the eye. Carl doesn't blink – meets her gaze evenly. She can't help the swell of pride she feels at that steady stare, but she wishes it wasn't directed at her.

"I think we need to have a talk," he says.  
"Is everything ok?" she asks. In her childishness had she missed a real problem Carl might be having? He'd been doing well, but he was still recovering. He'd been a little quieter, moody, but that was to be expected. Wasn't it?

"I've been thinking," said Carl, that same somber air around him.  
She nods her head and steps closer to him and Judith, giving him her full attention. She'd allow herself time to feel guilty about her cowardice later.  
"Should I start calling you 'mom' now, or should I wait til the wedding?"

Michonne's eyes widened as she forces herself to NOT REACT, but it's like she's holding in a sneeze as her whole body seizes. She must look like a deer in headlights. Oh, crap. How can she explain -

Suddenly Carl starts cracking up. With his confused looking sister held tightly in his arms, the boy is practically starting to wheeze with the force of his laughter. Oh. Jokes. The kid has jokes?! Michonne tries to glare at him which unfortunately only serves to make him laugh harder, now with Judith oblivious to the joke, but nonetheless joining in. Michonne feels the corners of her mouth twitch. These two.

"Carl!"  
"Come on! That was soooo funny. I've never seen your face like that," he said between giggles. Michonne plucked Judith from his arms and rolled her eyes while watching Carl literally clutching his sides. She hadn't seen him laugh this hard since he'd woken from the coma and she was all for it, even if it was at her expense.

"Glad I could bring you a little entertainment."  
"Def the best part of my day!" he said grinning and nodding.

She hip-checks him as she moves back in the kitchen to sit in one of the impractical little metal chairs in the breakfast nook. Michonne balances Judith on her lap as she opens her bag of kale chips and uses her foot to push out another chair in Carl's direction.

"Sit," she says, smile still hovering around her cheeks. Carl is still grinning as he grabs the little chair and plops down in a way that reminds her of his father.

"We should talk. For real," she says.  
"What? Come on! I was just messing around!" pleads Carl.  
"It's fine. I was thinking this might be a conversation you should have with your dad, but he may be a while and if you have any questions-  
"No! No questions at all. None."  
"Okay. If you think of some though, you can always ask me. I want us to be cool."  
"We are cool. It's all good. Dad explained everything to me."

Rick talked to him? In that little bit of time between meeting with Jesus and heading out? This was news to her.

Rick was a straight shooter in all ways, but being honest and being open are two different things.

"What exactly did he explain to you?" she asked, now curious.  
"You know. How it's different with you guys."  
"It is different and that does mean some changes, but nothing you should worry about."  
"No, I mean different from you know, him and someone else," he said, now looking everywhere but at her.

Different. Huh. Rick said that? She needed to run that through her brain's RickSpeak-decoder a couple of times. Looking at the fidgeting teenage boy in front of her though, she knew that would have to wait.

"Carl, I want you to know that this is new for all of us. There's no right or wrong here. It's whatever makes you comfortable."  
"Got it. Are we done now?" he said, now pushing back from the table and standing.  
"Almost. I also want you to make sure you know that I would never try to replace your mom."  
"Yeah, I kinda knew that already," he said, now looking down at her like he did that one time she admitted she liked Aquaman – a very particular mix of pity and skepticism. Suddenly that sober look returns to his face and he abruptly he sits back down in the chair he'd only just vacated.

"It's not me that needs a mom, anyway. I'm fine. It's Judith. She has me and dad and she has you. If something... gets weird between you guys... she's still gonna have you, right?"

Michonne looked at Carl, his face in bandages still looking so earnest. Her poor, brave boy. He'd been forced to grow up so fast – too fast, and couldn't see how much growing he still had to do.

"Listen to me. Nothing that happens between me and your dad could ever change how I feel about you and Judy. You're both stuck with me, kid," she says with a smile that did nothing to belie the truth in her words. Carl let out a sigh and visibly relaxes as Michonne feels her heart break a little. How long had he been holding on to that particular concern?

"Good. I wasn't really worried."  
"Sometimes it's nice to hear something, even if you already know it's true."  
"I guess," he says, helping himself to one of her kale chips before promptly regretting his decision as he chews. She shoots him a smirk before she makes a cartoonish show of enjoying eating the chips she pulled from the bag. He rolls his eyes and grins back at her.

"It was a pretty dumb thing to worry about. I mean, if Andre were here, I know dad would love him as much as he loves Judy," he says, smiling as he offers Judith the other half of his green chip, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Michonne is having trouble breathing.  
"Right," she replies, and if her voice shakes a little, he doesn't seem to notice.

She clears her throat and stands up.

"It's getting pretty late for Judith."  
"I'll put her back down. We just wanted to see you now that you're home," he says while stifling a yawn and standing up.

Carl takes his sister and turns to leave the kitchen as Michonne draws a couple deep breaths and starts to gather the mugs that had been left at the table earlier by Carl no doubt.

"Michonne?"  
"Hmmm?" she asks, not looking up from collecting dishes.  
"I love you."  
She turns to look at him, a little surprised to hear the words actually spoken.  
"Sometimes it's nice to hear something, even if you already know it's true," he says, bashful smile on his face.

She smiles back at him, her son in all the ways that count.  
"I love you both too," she says and isn't surprised when he shrugs.  
"I know. Good night," he says before turning and leaving the room.  
"Good night," she calls back before she sits back down at the table, her mind racing, but her heart a little less troubled.

She'd been worried about him. For good reason, it turns out. These kids were hers in every way but blood and she would never let that change, but maybe it was a mistake to upset this apple cart. Had she needlessly complicated something that Carl and Judith needed for something that wouldn't last with Rick? She loves Rick, she knows this. It was something that had been growing with her slowly and steadily since she and he had been at the prison together.

She just hadn't recognized it until he'd twisted their fingers together and kissed her. How could she recognize something built on more trust and respect than she'd ever had before? That had never been her experience with relationships.

But because she loved him, she knew him. Knew he was impulsive. Those instincts had saved them more than once, but they'd also lead to be the downfall of the entire little Anderson family. A situation that had escalated so quickly she honestly still wasn't sure she understood all that happened. She could trust Rick Grimes with her life, but was it smart to trust him with her heart?

And... Andre. She still hadn't told Rick about him. Still hadn't explained. Didn't that say something? She'd been happy here with them, but when Rick had kissed her whether she admitted it or not, everything changed. Maybe they rushed into this.

There hadn't been time for talking that night. They'd been so wrapped up in each other it had been easy to pretend the world didn't exist outside of them. Outside of that couch. Outside of that bed. But, the world came crashing in as it always does and maybe it's time to deal with this before it's too late. He and her family had become her everything, but could she honestly say the same for him. Suddenly she felt incredible vulnerable. Maybe the better thing to do was to step back before she gets so lost in this man she can't see herself anymore.

She's been sitting in the same position, losing track of time when she hears the sound of the front door unlocking again. She listens for the sound of his boots, heading towards the warm glow of the kitchen.

"Hey," says Rick from the doorway, exhaustion doing nothing to dampen the grin that covers his face at the sight of her. He is so beautiful in a place where she'd never thought she'd have anything beautiful again.

"Hey," she replies, and can't stop the answering smile on her face. It's late. Maybe she was being weak, but one more night before it all blows up wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

She went to him.


End file.
